


N.Y.E.

by BubblegumCat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, alcohol is involved just a warning yeah, but stuff works out okay, i like this song so so much, idk basically just fluff, jean is all lost and confused, oh also alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCat/pseuds/BubblegumCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think I drank too much,<br/>I'm still afraid of growin' up,<br/>And slowin' down too soon"</p><p>It's new years eve, and Jean's feeling kinda messed up about things. He doesn't really know where he's going, or what he's doing. But sometimes the solution to your problem is right in front of you, and maybe Jean really knew that all along<br/>(sorry im awful at summaries how do u do this again aahahaha)</p>
            </blockquote>





	N.Y.E.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on N.Y.E. by Blackbear it's such a good song all his songs are good go check him out okay yes  
> But yeah, I was making my tea and this song was stuck in my head, and I suddenly went, shit. Jeanmarco man. So yeah, here, i hope it's okay i wrote this all in one sitting bc i just had to get it out, i really feel what jean's feeling i guess. thank you so so much for reading as always though, i'm sorry i suck at posting regularly, idek.

It's new years eve, and I've been drinking almost non-stop all day. Eren has had a load of his friends round for hours and hours, since like lunch time I think. Although I started drinking before then, so who even knows. It's a wonder I'm still conscious at all really, although I have to say shit's getting pretty blurry. I guess I'm not so great at recognising my limits. My liver must hate me quite a lot right now. It's about an hour to midnight. I only know that because some dickhead has been yelling out updates every hour or so since like 8pm.

We're on the roof of mine and Eren's apartment building, we all swarmed up here when the apartment got too crowded. Music's pounding in my chest and lights are flashing so that all I can feel is right here and now. I think I see stars in the sky but I can't really be sure, it might be my brain or it might just be the crazy ass lighting one of Eren's rave buddies brought with them. As soon as those dudes catch even the slightest hint of a party they're right there, but it's cool because they usually bring their own shit, like booze or music or whatever. I think I'm dancing, but I can't really be sure. It feels really good though, whatever it is I'm doing. 

Shit's been kinda rough lately, not really sure what I'm doing. I mean, I'm in my first year of my biochemistry degree, and I work part time at some cafe, but I don't feel, fulfilled? I spend my weekends studying all day when I'm not working and then drinking and sleeping with women I pick up at random clubs all night. And it just isn't very satisfying. 

It's not that I don’t like alcohol, or even women, I definitely like both of those things. Fucking trust me. I just, don't feel like I'm going anywhere. I'm terrified of growing up, of ending up in a boring job with a boring wife and a boring family and having a boring ass life where nothing happens. I don't want to settle down. I need spontaneity, excitement, pure unadulterated happiness, you know? Is that kind of life even possible? Deep down in the back of my brain I know it probably could be, but only in one way. More specifically, with one specific person. 

It's been five fucking years since I saw him, and we only kept in touch for like half of that, but I still think about him way more than I should. Shit reminds me of him all the time, which is just, really dumb. Because who the fuck even knows what he's even like now? A lot of stuff can happen in five years. He probably barely even remembers me. Or more likely he just remembers me as the random dude with the weird haircut who was weirdly obsessed with sciencey crap. My gut twists at the thought of myself as some vague, barely recognisable figure inside his mind - the shadow of a stranger. It’s upsetting, in a way that makes me need to shove my way out of the crowd and over to the edge of the roof, where there's slightly more space and it isn’t quite as suffocating. I just need a minute. The dickhead shouts that it's half an hour to midnight.

I can still feel the music, my heart beating with the deep bass of the song, but my head feels a bit clearer out here. In the distance there are already people setting off fireworks, purple and gold and white flashes lighting up the sky, just visible above a cluster of tall buildings. My mind is full of white though, of snow falling and numb fingers making snowballs to throw and defrost against your flushed cheek, the sound of your laughter, and then the warm fireplace, and the chill glass of the window in front of the wooden floor we sat on watching the fat flakes fall. When you told me the thing, the thing that changed everything. The thing that I handled so fucking badly. I couldn't say anything, I just kissed you. And we kept on kissing, other times, doing other things, not really talking about it. Never stopping for long enough to consider what it could mean. Or at least, I didn’t. I didn't let myself. And I spent the next five years or so regretting it. Twenty minutes.

My hands are cold, the air is pretty chilly and the jacket I'm wearing isn't even nearly thick enough for the icy winter wind that howls occasionally. There are girls dancing in tiny slips of dresses. I don’t know how they do it. Well no, that’s a lie, with the volume of alcohol running through their veins I guess it’s hardly surprising. I shove my hands in my pockets, my eyes looking at tight skirts over thick thighs but my brain on brown eyes and freckled skin. Fifteen minutes.

When the weather warmed up slightly we watched the rain fall and turn the fluffy snow to slush. We slipped and slid in the wet mush, down glistening suburban roads to my house or your house or Eren's house. The rain would drench us as we ran but we never cared. Your fringe would cling to your forehead, and the hour or so I had spent on getting my hair just right only to have it soaked through and ruined in the rain didn't even matter at all. Not when I could see you breathless, chest heaving, standing on your front porch with your eyes lit up looking straight into me. Into, my fucking soul, or something. I'm not good with words, but you always made me wish I was. I wrote to you, but I ripped up nearly every single thing I put down. Ten minutes. 

You left. We'd been fooling around for months, six months, and then you left. Your dad got some new job in some new place far away. We promised we'd keep in touch, exchanged emails now and again, texts, the occasional phone call, the even rarer skype call. Everything got fewer and fewer the older we got. Busy with school, or interrupted because of time differences and sleep cycles and school and work times. Eventually, everything stopped. You stopped emailing me, and I stopped emailing you. We were living in different worlds, different times, different lives. Too busy. That was when I realised the extent of it, of what I felt. I never thought I'd be one for settling down, but I could see it so clearly with you. It would be so easy. I turn back around to face outwards towards the sky and the skyline, the mass of bodies writhing to the music making me feel dizzy all of a sudden. Five minutes. 

I sway. I figure I'm probably a little too close for comfort to the edge of the building in my inebriated state, so I make my way over to a couch someone (fuck knows who) dragged up here. By the bedraggled look of it, quite awhile ago. I slump down, spying a cup of something alcoholic on the floor. Hey, why the fuck not. My hand reaches out for it almost without my brain telling it to, nearly knocking it over but just managing to keep it upright, and it lifts to my lips. I drain it. I look up, and see an extremely familiar face in the crowd of people. The body attached to the face isn't dancing, just standing there, staring at me. My mouth appears to be open, and I realise, and close it. Thirty seconds. 

Wide brown eyes are fixed on me still, the face they're embedded in, that I know so well, tilted to the side in confusion. Blue strobe lights illuminate freckled cheekbones. 10 seconds. 

The rooftop counts down. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Fireworks bang and pop as people yell out the same three words you only say once every year. I look up and watch the blue and red sparks flying, hear girls squealing with happiness, guys yelling out exclamations. Then I look back down, and the face is gone. And then, nothing at all. 

***

The world is hazy when I wake. Dim blueish violet light makes everything seem like it's not quite real. I haven't got a clue what time it is. Everything's blurred round the edges. All around me are collapsed bodies, about four other people crammed onto this sofa with me. I push them away from me gingerly. None of them stir except one tiny blonde girl curled up on a tall chick's lap at the end of the couch. 

I force my body to work - to stand up, stumble over to the side of the building and thud down heavily so that my legs dangle over the side. Probably not the best idea, but my brain isn’t really here right now I guess. 

A voice behind me startles me. "D'you think you could move away from the edge a bit? Making me kinda nervous here."

I whip my head round to see Marco sitting with his long legs crossed, leaning against the wall. He smiles at me blearily, so familiar that my heart aches with it. My heart is in my throat. But I nod, and crawl over to where he's sitting, curling up next to him but being careful not to get too close. Even in my barely conscious state I recognise that touching Marco may not be the best idea right now. 

"Thanks. My heartrate's at a slightly more normal level now."

"Mine isn't." The words are out before I can stop them. Well fuck. I feel him look at me, but I don’t turn to see his face. I just face forward, watching the sky, the clouds drifting lazily across the horizon. 

"Jean," He starts, but then he pauses. "I just, I wanted to-"

"Y-you don't have to, y'know. Do this. Not right now." I interrupt him. I'm not sure I want to have this conversation. Not now, maybe not ever. My chest hurts so much. All the nights of lying awake in bed, they have fucking nothing on right now. 

"It isn't- It's just," He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, still not really capable of facing him full on yet. "I didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did. I hope you know that. I never wanted-" His voice catches, and I swear he must be able to fucking hear my dumbass fucking heart beating right out of my fucking chest. "It hurt too much. To keep talking to you, and I heard you were doing things with all these girls, and-" His voice breaks and I can't take it. I turn to face him and I cup his face with my hands, I can't help it. 

"Marco no no no, please no, I didn’t, that didn’t mean anything I swear. I was just so lonely and I needed something to fill the massive ass fucking hole inside me, I was so empty you don't understand, I-" I have to make him understand, so I lean forward and I kiss him. So gently, more gently than I have ever kissed anyone ever, the barest brush of lips. I pull back, and look at him. And he's so beautiful, the prettiest sunset, the fucking magnum opus that no artist could ever hope to recreate. His brown eyes are still teary, but he's smiling. 

I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb, and he leans into it. This time he kisses me, just as gentle, but with more of a promise. The gentleness fades a little as our lips move against each other, but the promise remains. I couldn't tell you how long it lasted for, but when we eventually pull back - his hands against the rough stubble at the back of my neck, mine still holding his face - I feel more full of light and happiness than I've ever felt in my life. And I know shit's going to work out okay. It's weird how stuff works out sometimes.


End file.
